


Protective Custody

by Historical_Muse



Category: British Actor RPF, Lord of the Rings RPF
Genre: Fluff, Gratuitous use of song lyrics, M/M, old-fashioned romance
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2013-06-14
Updated: 2013-06-13
Packaged: 2017-12-14 22:15:28
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings, No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 4
Words: 11,939
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/841971
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Historical_Muse/pseuds/Historical_Muse
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Billy just wants someone to take care of him - and only one person will do...</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Chapter 1

_*There is no Great Dark Man_ …*

Billy sighed and closed the book.  < _Bugger_ ,> he thought.

That line from “The Naked Civil Servant” always depressed him.  Because that was _exactly_ what he himself was looking for:  his very own “Great Dark Man”. 

Quentin Crisp had decided that the Great Dark Man didn’t exist – that if a real man fell in love with him, then he couldn't truly be a real man.  But Billy didn’t care and Billy begged to differ.  Just what _was_ “a real man” anyway, these days? 

Besides, _he_ could think of someone who fitted his own personal criteria _beautifully_ :  he just didn’t like to admit it.  At least, not to anyone else. 

He ticked off his list in his head.  * _Good company, friendly, affectionate, loyal, reliable and trustworthy, good conversationalist, sensible, funny, good with small Scottish bachelors…_ * 

Okay, that was the expurgated version.  Mentally he turned to his other list.  * _Attractive (to me), butch as all fuck, sexy as hell, strong (preferably muscular), built like a godlet, "undress me” eyes, devilish smile, deep seductive voice, hung like a small sperm whale…*_

Billy back-tracked quickly.  Well, okay – his Great Dark Man could be hung like a hamster for all he cared so long as he had all or most of the other things he was looking for.  Billy raised his green eyes to heaven.  “Honestly, God, I’m not asking for a lot, _really_ I’m not.  I’d settle for just _some_ of that if I could just get the man I want to fall in love with me…”

“You talkin’ to yourself again, Billy?” Sean Astin grinned, ambling into the trailer with a Styrofoam cup of coffee and a doughnut.  “You know what they say _that’s_ the first sign of!”

Grinning, Billy sighed.  “It’s all very well for you married guys; you’re all settled an’ sorted.  Just you spare a thought for us wee bachelors who’re still desperately lookin’ for _leurve_!”

“What are you looking for again, Bills?” Dominic asked with a wink at Sean as he and Elijah wandered in with more coffee and sticky refreshments.

“I’m lookin’ for _leurve_!” Billy obliged, knowing what was expected of him.

Dom stuck his head out of the trailer door.  “Bowl in here for Billy, someone!  He’s throwin’ up!”  He looked back in at his friends and winked before declaiming in a loud stage whisper:  “I _told_ you that Thai curry was a bit dodgy yesterday.”

“Dom, get your ass in here and stop showin’ yourself up for _fuck’s_ sake,” Elijah sighed, licking sugar from around his mouth in a distracted manner that was far more seductive than ought to be permissible in company.  “How’s it goin’ then, Billy?  Still wonderin’ how you can capture the man of your dreams?”

“Like _you’d_ know how to do _that_ ,” scoffed Dom. 

“You’re just jealous ‘cos I got to screw Orli and you didn’t...” Elijah pouted. 

Pretending to frown, Sean waved his doughnut.  “Whoa, whoa – _way_ too much information here, guys...some of us are still eating!”  The others muttered cheerful apologies, and then Sean turned back to Billy.  “But to go back to what young Master Wood here was askin’...  Any luck in the love hunt yet?” 

Billy let out a huge theatrical sigh, his shoulders sinking down to somewhere around his knees.  “Naww!” he whimpered.  “An’ I don’t know where I’m goin’ wrong!” 

“Maybe you’re comin’ across as _too_ desperate?” Elijah suggested kindly.  “Try an’ be a bit more ‘Tickle-Me Elmo’ than ‘Screw-Me Billy’.” 

“Oh _very_ refained, _Ay’m_ sure,” Dom sniggered. 

“And _your_ helpful contribution to the discussion so far has been...?” Sean remarked pointedly. 

“D’ye think that’s what I _am_ doin’?” Billy asked.  “ _Am_ I a bit obvious?” 

“A bit,” admitted Elijah.  “You do tend to kinda hurl yourself at people – wear your heart on your sleeve a bit.” 

“An’ it’s not like you’re not a great bloke, Billy,” Dominic smiled, sitting down on one of the easy chairs and putting his hobbit feet up on the make-up bench as he took a swig of coffee and assaulted his doughnut.  His smile broadened into a grin of genuine affection.  “You’re fuckin’ amazin’, you are, Bills.  _You_ are a prince among men and I can’t understand why someone hasn’t snapped you up yet.  It’s fuckin’ outrageous!” 

“Too fuckin’ right,” Elijah agreed. 

Sean sipped thoughtfully at his coffee.  “Got your eye on anyone in particular, Billy?” 

“Nawwww, ‘ _course_ not.” 

“Now see, see,” Elijah interrupted.  “You see what just happened there, guys?  Bill’s nose just grew about a foot an’ a half.” 

“Bill- _ee_ ,” Sean sing-songed, “you’re among friends here – you can tell _us_.  There _is_ someone, isn’t there...” 

“I...”  Billy blushed bright red, the stain spreading down beyond Pippin’s scarf and up into his wig.  “Mmmm – might be...” 

His eyes wide and a broad smile across his face, Elijah bounced up and out of his chair, doughnut crumbs and coffee droplets flying everywhere.  “Billy, you _cunt_ – there _is_ someone you’ve got the hots for, then!” 

“Okay, okay,” Billy smiled shyly, torn between not wanting to say more and wanting to sing the praises of his beloved to his best friends.  “So there _is_ someone...” 

“Who – _who_?” Dom demanded eagerly. 

“Yeah, go on, Bills!” Sean was as excited as the others were.  “Tell us who it is!” 

“Ah.”  Billy sighed.  “That’s where it gets complicated.  I can’t say.” 

“You wanker!” Dom exclaimed, giving Billy a playful shove with his foot.  “Why ever not?” 

Elijah took in Billy’s lowered eyes and wistful expression.  “Oh.  So he’s not gay, then.” 

Billy shook his head.  “He wouldn’t appear to be.” 

“You mean he’s got a girlfriend?” Sean suggested. 

“No,” Elijah said kindly, seeing Billy’s response to Sean’s question.  “Worse.  He’s married, isn’t he...” 

Billy rubbed his face wearily in his hands.  “Aye, that’s right.  With kids, tae.  And depressingly happy.” 

“Oh bollocks,” Dom sighed.  “That’s fucked it.” 

“It’s not _me_ , is it?” Sean grinned.  “I’d do _anythin’_ for you, Billy-boy:  you know that.  I’m sure Christine would understand!” 

“I’d hope so, just in case!”  Billy squeezed Sean’s shoulder and gave him a watery smile.  “I’m flattered, Sean – you’re _definitely_ one of the good guys!” 

Elijah steepled his fingers.  “Is it someone in the cast, or someone on the crew?  Is it someone _we_ know?  Do we like him?” 

“‘Yes’ and – ‘ _yes_ ’ to the last two questions; not prepared to say for the first and second.” 

Dom finished the last of his coffee.  “I’d still like to know who it is, though, Billy.  Won’t you give us a clue?” 

“What _good_ would it do?” Billy smiled weakly.  “He wouldn’t look at me twice.  Not in _that_ way.  Not in the way I _want_ him to.” 

The suddenly sombre mood was broken by a sharp series of knocks on the door followed by the arrival of one of the runners with invitations to an “Unbirthday Party” to be held at Ian’s house the following night. 

“Sounds cool!” Elijah grinned, scanning the invite.  “Oh, I say – black tie or other smart dress.  Well, that’s _you_ out, then, Dom!” 

Dom waved a middle finger and ignored him.  “So you goin’ then, Billy?  Take your mind off things?” 

“Well, I dunno...” 

“Go on, Billy,” Elijah coaxed.  “It’s at Ian’s – it should be a blast!” 

Dom gave Billy another shove with his hobbit foot.  “Yeah, it should be a _great_ laugh!” 

Sean grinned.  “And you never know – the man of your dreams might be there, too!” 

“Hmmm.”  Billy thought about that for a few moments.  Sean was right, of course.  There was every chance that he might be.  Ah, what the hell.  He grinned.  “Of _course_ I’ll be there.  You just try an’ keep me away – after all, it could be my lucky night!”

*  *  *  *  *  *  *  *  *  *  *  * 

So the next day there was Billy in the middle of town, beetling down the main street on his way back from hiring a dress suit that would’ve made Fred Astaire weep with envy and his mind and eyes not on where he was going – and inevitably colliding with what felt like a cuddly brick wall. 

“Billy – what the fuck are you doin’ down there?” 

Andy’s voice above him was genial and amused and more than made up for Billy’s embarrassment at being sprawled out on the pavement, bags of CDs and clothes scattered around him like a pedestrian’s car boot sale. 

“Just checking for cracks,” Billy wheezed back, temporarily winded and his brain an excited bundle of squealing synapses as warm, strong arms helped him to his feet. 

“You’ll get me a bad reputation, Billy Boyd,” Andy grinned.  “Pickin’ up strange men in the street.” 

Billy laughed.  “Well then, perhaps you could start a mission to save fallen women instead.” 

“Want me to save one for _you_?” 

The sparkle in Andy’s bright blue eyes and that wickedly puckish grin sent a depth charge straight to Billy’s groin – and then drained away, leaving a lost, melancholy tightness in its place.  “Er – no, no, I – er – I don’t – what I mean is...” 

“Oh _shit_!” Andy exclaimed, squeezing his eyes shut in mortification.  “Billy, I’m so sorry, I forgot – sometimes I only ever open my mouth to change the position of my bloody feet, you know that.”  He smiled apologetically and Billy melted into a neat, tartan puddle.  “You drive the other bus, don’t you?” 

< _Oh, and I wish_ you _could be persuaded to get on board,_ > Billy thought sadly.  “Oh aye,” he replied, nailing on a bright, fixed smile.  “Plenty of room on top.  Hold very tight, please…” < _Go on, Andy, take a chance on me – you could hold me_ very _tight if you ever wanted to._ > 

“Look,” Andy was saying, gathering up bags and Billy’s dignity when the younger man had finally stopped staring at the tightness of Andy’s jeans and t-shirt.  “It’s the weekend; I’ve got a day-off...” 

“So have I!” Billy smiled.  “What a coincidence!”  He spent the next couple of nanoseconds kicking himself for behaving like a jessie and grateful that he was able to convince Andy he was just being his normal, effervescent self. 

“Well I tell you what, then, seein’ as we’ve run into each other – yeah, I know, _literally_ , fnar, fnar – how about if I treat you to lunch?  I’m at a bit of a loose end, and it would be nice to have company.  If that’s okay with you, that is, or you’re not meetin’ the other hobbits...” 

“No!”  Billy’s eyes couldn’t have got any brighter or rounder if he’d tried.  “Isn’t that funny!  We hadn’t got anything planned for today – I’d _love_ to have lunch with you, Andy.  Thanks!” 

He made a mental note to phone Dom as soon as decently possible to tell him that Orli could have his seat in the van after all for the surfing trip they’d planned for that afternoon… 

*  *  *  *  *  *  *  *  *  *  *  *


	2. Chapter 2

So there was Billy, sitting in a smart little bistro, eating lunch with the man of his dreams and trying hard not to fantasise that they were lovers enjoying a quiet meal together. He’d already caught himself flirting outrageously with Andy, giving him coy looks from beneath his lashes and staying just this side of decency in terms of coquettish body language as they bantered away cheerfully, trading linguistic thrusts and parries with glee.  
  
Not that Andy seemed to mind Billy’s attentions – or perhaps he hadn’t even noticed. Billy flirted with anything with a pulse – it was in his nature – and so Andy was probably taking it all in his stride, enjoying Billy’s quick wit and ready charm. But for Billy it was becoming a struggle, forcing himself to remember that not only was this gorgeous man as straight as they came, but also married, with kids, and a wife Billy had pretty much fallen for himself when Andy’s family had been living with him in New Zealand during the initial months of filming.  
  
God, how Billy envied Lorraine being married to just the kind of man he’d always longed for: it was at times like this that he wondered if God had organised the current state of things just to piss him off.  
  
“So, Billy… What you got planned for tonight, then?”  
  
The familiar growl startled Billy back to reality. “Oh, I’m going to that big do of Ian’s – you know, his ‘Unbirthday Party’.”  
  
“Oh yeah, I got my invite.”  
  
Billy leaned forward excitedly. “Ian’s hired this great big fuck-off piano and a pianist to play nice tinkly background music for his little soirée. It’s gonna be like one of those great big 30s Hollywood parties – only with Viggo and Orli instead of Fred and Ginger!”  
  
Andy jabbed at the chocolate crust on his dessert with his spoon and then wiped a chocolate crumb off his cheek. “Sounds fantastic.”  
  
Hearing the non-committal tone in Andy’s voice, Billy eyed him with unease. “You are going, of course…”  
  
Andy rang a finger around the neck of his t-shirt and Billy developed a sudden fascination with the froth on his cappuccino as he struggled not to stare, tongue down to his knees, at the firm bicep this action revealed. “Well…I hadn’t been plannin’ to…”  
  
“Why ever not? It’ll be a blast!”  
  
“Well, I don’t know…”  
  
Andy licked his finger and dabbed up more bits of chocolate dislodged by his spoon and then stuck it in his mouth, sucking briefly and causing Billy to whimper inwardly. _Oh, to be those crumbs and that finger!_ thought Billy sadly. Honestly – the combination of Andy’s bicep and finger sucking was too much for such a well-behaved Scottish dandy about town as himself. _He could at least have asked me to do it_ .  
  
“What do you mean, you don’t know – it’s a party! At Ian’s! It’ll be fantastic!”  
  
Andy sucked chocolate dessert off his spoon and looked thoughtful. “Well I was thinkin’ about just dossin’ around this weekend. It’s been a fuckin’ busy week, Billy – an’ I wanna phone home, see how my brood are doin’.”  
  
“Aye – but you can still come to Ian’s do, surely? Take your mind off things! Go on – you’ll love it!”  
  
“Well, I could do with somethin’ to lift my spirits…”  
  
“That’s ma wee boy,” Billy grinned. “The lovely Lorraine wouldn’t want you to sit moping around the house all weekend! And how is the beautiful one – still missing you?”  
  
“Still beautiful, still missin’ me, still threatenin’ to run away with a certain exquisitely-dressed Scottish hobbit first chance she gets…so no change there, then.”  
  
“And the smaller Serkettes?”  
  
“Gettin’ less so by the day, apparently. The little buggers are growin’ up, Billy – and I don’t want to miss out!”  
  
“Och, I bet – and that reminds me! When you do phone, give Sonny my love, an’ thank him for that picture of Pippin he sent me – though I’m not sure my feet are quite as big as he drew ‘em!”  
  
“Will do. I think Sonny took a real shine to you, Billy.”  
  
“Och!” Billy blushed. “Really?”  
  
Andy grinned ruefully. “I think he identifies with Pippin bein’ told off by Gandalf an’ that whole ‘Pippin is a dippy twat’ thing.”  
  
“Pippin is not a dippy twat!” Billy huffed indignantly.  
  
“I know that, you know that. But it’s how everyone sort of…” Andy studied the light-fitting and rubbed his fingertips together trying to find the right word. “…Sort of patronises him a bit – you know, that ‘silly Pippin’ thing. An’ Sonny identifies with that. It’s what comes of havin’ an older sister who likes dressin’ up in her fairy frock an’ whappin’ ‘im with ‘er wand. But because Pippin becomes a bit of a hero, Sonny likes that. With me, it’s – ” Andy adopted a familiar, high-pitched child’s voice. “‘Oh, silly daddy’; with you, it’s ‘me love Billy!’”  
  
 _I wish that was you talking about me,_ > Billy sighed. “Kids, eh?” he smiled, trying to hide the wistfulness in his eyes by studying the menu again.  
  
“Kids,” Andy agreed with a grin, going back to stabbing at his dessert.  
  
“So.” Billy coughed to clear his throat, surprised by the way his voice had suddenly cracked. “So. You’ll come, then?”  
  
Andy licked more chocolate and cream off his spoon and Billy resisted the urge to stare and moan out loud. “Well I must admit you’re puttin’ temptation in my way, Billy.”  
  
 _An’ so are you, Andy..._  
  
“Everyone’ll be there, an’ you’d be missed, you know. I mean, you know Lij will sulk if you don’t go. Christ, I’ll sulk if you don’t go – I’ll miss you.”  
  
 _Fuck! Did I really just say that?!_  
  
The delighted smile Billy received in return made it all worthwhile. “Will you really? Oh well, in that case I’m definitely comin’ – Sonny would never forgive me.”  
  
“Oh. So it’s not my irresistible charm changed your mind, then?”  
  
Andy’s eyes sparkled as he scooped more cream and chocolate out of the bowl of his spoon with his tongue and remained oblivious to Billy’s glazing eyes and heavy swallowing. “We-ell… That too.”  
  
“So you think I’m irresistibly charming, then?” The words were out of Billy’s mouth before he had time to stop them: he was too busy being horrified at himself for the way he was accompanying what he was saying with the coyly cocked head and Princess Di eyelash batting.  
  
Another lick of chocolate dessert, and then Andy grinned. “Too fuckin’ right, mate. My wife wants to elope with you an’ my son wants to adopt you, an’ my daughter thinks you’re ‘not as silly as daddy’, which is quite a compliment in her book.”  
  
“And you – what about you? Do you think I’m irresistibly charming?”  
  
“What is this – the Spanish Inquisition?” The blue eyes twinkled again. “I wasn’t expectin’ that!”  
  
Billy cackled, grateful to be given time to catch his breath after wondering which rogue brain cell was in charge of his mouth that day. “Nobody ever expects the Spanish Inquisition – when I get you back on set it’ll be the comfy chair for you, Mr Serkis.”  
  
“Couldn’t be any worse than wearing my gimp suit an’ bein’ surrounded by sniggerin’, hairy-arsed crew members.”  
  
 _Now, see, you just had to mention the gimp suit, didn’t you, Andy… Tight, one piece, clinging… You unfeeling bastard, Serkis!_  
  
“So come on. Do you think I’m irresistibly charming or not?” Billy demanded, lowering his voice as the waiter came over and asked if they’d like to order anything else.  
  
Andy stared hard at Billy, trying to look innocent. “Is there a prize for givin’ the correct answer? …Yes, please, I would like another of those chocolate things, thank you.”  
  
“…And one for me, please…”  
  
Andy waited until the waiter was out of earshot. “Is there a prize, then?”  
  
Billy rested his chin on his clasped hands and gave Andy a heavy-eyed look. “Maybe…” _Oh god, I’m flirting now…_  
  
“Like what?”  
  
What happened next Billy couldn’t quite explain. He’d opened his mouth, ready to come back at Andy with some glittering, camp response laden with enough filth and innuendo to rival Graham Norton. But what actually came out of his mouth wasn’t what his brain had put ready for him to say.  
  
“I’ll sing for you,” he said, simply.  
  
“Sing for me?”  
  
“Aye.” To Billy’s relief, Andy didn’t exactly look unimpressed with the offered reward. “I’ll sing for ye. Tonight. At Ian’s.”  
  
“At Ian’s?”  
  
“Like I said, he’s hired a pianist.” Billy blushed. “And guess what – Ian’s asked me to sing for him!”  
  
“Oh my god – that’s fantastic! You’ve got a really great voice, Billy.”  
  
“Aye – thanks. So – if you’ll answer my question, I’ll sing a song for ye tonight.”  
  
Andy fell silent as the waiter brought their desserts, then began tapping at the chocolate shell of his second dessert with his spoon.  
  
“What is it…” Billy looked at him nervously. “Don’t you like the idea?”  
  
“No, no, it’s not that.” The spoon broke through to soft chocolate and cream and Andy started digging in gleefully. “Got you, you fucker! No, it’s not that,” he continued through a mouth full of rum-flavoured chocolate. “I’m just – curious as to why you’re so concerned about what I think of you.”  
  
“We all like to be liked,” Billy replied, chipping away at his own dessert. “Besides – I just want to know that you’re not mad at me because your other half wants to commit bigamy and elope with me.”  
  
“’Course I’m not, you daft fuck. And my son thinks the sun shines out of your arse – I’m hardly likely to argue with him, now am I!” Andy pointed his spoon at his friend. “You, Billy Boyd, are indeed an irresistibly charming young man. And why you’re still single I’ll never bloody know.”  
  
The melancholia hit Billy like a train. “So other people have said…”  
  
“So, does this mean you’re still goin’ to sing for me, then?”  
  
“What? Oh, sure, of course!”  
  
“Do I get to choose the song?”  
  
More sucking of chocolate from Andy’s spoon had Billy sweating again. “No. Oh no. I’ve got the perfect song for you…” _I just hope you won’t want to kick the shit out of me after you’ve heard it._  
  
“And are you going to tell me what it is?”  
  
“It’s a surprise.”  
  
“Go on, you can tell me.”  
  
“Then it wouldn’t be a surprise, would it, fuckwit. So no, I’m sayin’ nothing. Mind you, one piece I had thought of doin’ tonight is Figaro’s ‘Factotum’ song.”  
  
Andy’s face creased into a deliciously mischievous leer. “Figaro’s fucked ’oo?” he grinned, broadening his accent to make more sense of the tortuously obscure double entendre.  
  
“Figaro’s Fac-Totem. He’s Polish, apparently. Totem. Pole. Oh well, please yourself,” he added, slipping into a Frankie Howerd impersonation as Andy began giggling. “It’s a tricky piece, but I think I can pull it off. Oh do behave, Andrew…”  
  
“Now that’s scary! Not,” Andy added hastily, “your singin’, Billy. Your voice is lovely. I mean havin’ to get up and sing that piece in front of everyone: you know how some of ‘em like to take the piss!”  
  
“Och…” Billy looked down into his bowl of dessert, blushing even more and not really knowing why. “Nothin’ I can’t handle.”  
  
“Mr Tough Guy, eh?” Andy chuckled. “Well, I could always protect you. Even compared to me you’re quite diddy.”  
  
Okay, so Andy was teasing – but still Billy’s heart executed a brief pirouette. _Oh, yes please! I’d love to be your damson in distress, Andy: make me into your very own dollop of damson jam!_  
  
Andy took another sip of his lager and then “humphed!” loudly, his eyes sparkling with mischief. “I notice Ian didn’t ask me to sing,” he grinned. “I feel quite affronted! I mean, it’s not like I can’t! I have done it in public before, you know! An’ singin’ as well,” he added, giving Billy his best Sid James leer and “yak yak” laugh.  
  
Billy looked up, concerned, having only heard the first half of Andy’s chatter and the rest of it having flown over his head like a skein of migrating geese. “Well I could ask Ian if – ”  
  
“No, no…” Andy gentled him swiftly. “I was jokin’, Billy. I don’t want to get up an’ sing in front of that lot unless I’m either gettin’ paid shed-loads of wonga or I’m in a more intimate situation.”  
  
 _Oh God, “a more intimate situation…”_ Billy’s imagination was in over-drive now, and way beyond cruise-control. _Like – like holding me in his arms and singing to me in bed…singing me to sleep after he’s shagged me six ways till Sunday…_  
  
Blithely unaware of Billy’s train of thought, Andy was chortling gleefully now. “I could do my Barry White impersonation if you like, though!”  
  
The thought of Andy unleashing his musical rumble on the others sent a delicious shiver up and down Billy’s torso. However – attractive as the thought was, it would not be a good idea for Andy to be growling in Billy’s vicinity after a few drinks unless Andy wanted to have a tough little Scotsman suddenly launch himself at him with lustful intent. “Perhaps not.”  
  
Andy laughed. “No, you’re right – after a few drinks and at that time of night, I’ll only be audible to elephants! Unlike our Elijah, who’s only audible to bats!”  
  
“Were you ever in a choir when you were a boy?” Billy asked, curious.  
  
Andy rubbed his chin. “Yeah, for a while. Well, like you do when you’re a kid at school.”  
  
Billy smiled. “A bit like Aled Jones?”  
  
The older man gave him a rueful look. “With my voice, more like Allied Carpets!”  
  
“What?”  
  
Andy sighed. “It was a joke. Bit of a play on ‘Aled’ and ‘Allied’. I – oh, never mind. I nicked it off some local radio station somewhere an’ it made me smile, anyway.”  
  
“No, no, I did get it,” Billy smiled gently. “I’m just cross with ye cos your singin’s no’ that bad.”  
  
Andy beamed. “Thank you, darlin’. I’ll come an’ sing under your window one night, shall I?”  
  
Billy hoped his face didn’t resemble a 2000 watt light bulb being switched on. _Not if you don’t want me to jump out of it and onto you._ “Oh aye, that would be lovely!”  
  
“Rapunzel, Rapunzel, let down your hair…”  
  
“I keep it on the chair by my bed always, in readiness for such moments…”  
  
“What would I sing to you, I wonder...what about 'Little Things Mean A Lot'?”  
  
Billy sighed. “You’ve seen my dick, then…”  
  
“No, I meant it in honour of the small but perfectly formed amongst us. And anyway, I’ve heard what the wardrobe team says about you…”  
  
Billy leaned forward, grinning flirtatiously. “Oh, do tell…”  
  
Andy leaned forward as well, making Billy shiver as some of those disorderly curls brushed his forehead. “Couple of good ‘andfuls, I ‘eard.”  
  
“Oh really?” Andy’s person and lowered voice – now growly and conspiratorial – in such close proximity was making Billy sweat. “As much as that?” he squeaked.  
  
“As much as that.”  
  
“Ah. But girls only have small hands…”  
  
Andy lowered his eyes with playful coyness, then raised them again in a devilishly wicked grin. “Did I say I was talkin’ about the wardrobe girls?”  
  
“Oooh!” Billy sat back in his chair, an endearingly foolish grin spreading like sunlight across his face. “Is that what they say!”  
  
Andy leered cheerfully at him over his glass of Stella Artois. “Straight up!”  
  
“Well they should know,” Billy opined as he polished off the last of his dessert and swallowed the remnants of his cappuccino. “They’re handling dicks nearly all day in the course of their work.” And then he realised what he’d said. “Figuratively speaking, of course…”  
  
“So tell me again – what time’s this eisteddfod starting tonight?”  
  
“Oh, Ian says to just turn up around eight for 8.30.”  
  
“Yeah, I know – but when are you goin’ to be singin’?”  
  
“Around 10.30, I think – so everyone and his dog will be too well-oiled to notice a few bum notes by then. Which, incidentally, are what Mr Dominic Monaghan produces after too much Thai curry.”  
  
“I’m sure you’ll be fabulous,” Andy chuckled. “I’m really lookin’ forward to it, now! What will you be wearin’?”  
  
“Oh, the whole shebang,” Billy assured him, ignoring the flutters of lust suddenly assailing him again thanks to Andy’s sudden interest. He pointed to the hired dress-suit in its dry-cleaning bag and the classy shirt in its protective box. “I’m gonna make Clarke Gable weep into his cocoa tonight!”  
  
“You’re not wearing the kilt, then?”  
  
“Would you like me to?” Billy could’ve kicked himself for sounding so eager.  
  
“No, I was just askin’ out of curiosity. Not sure it’d go with the general melange!”  
  
“Save it for another night, then?”  
  
“Yeah! You look good in your kilt – very nice knees. Lorraine likes oglin’ your legs when you’re wearin’ your kilt, an’ Ruby always thinks you’re an honorary girl – another of the highest Ruby Serkis compliments imaginable – because she thinks you’ve got a skirt on. Anyway – could you get that waiter’s attention for me? Time to pay up an’ go ‘ome to phone an’ preen, I think.”  
  
“Sure.” Billy called across the waiter and then sat and beamed at Andy. _He likes my knees!_ “Oh, and by the way – did you know that you an tell what clan a Scotsman comes from by what’s under his kilt?”  
  
“No, I didn’t!” Andy grinned as he signed the check and paid for their lunch, looking suspiciously like he knew the answer to this question all too well.  
  
And again Billy was trying to rein himself in, all too aware of what was about to come out of his mouth. And failing. “See, what you do is lift up his kilt – an’ if you see a quarter-pounder under there, you know he’s a MacDonald...!”  
  
                                                                                                                                 *************


	3. Chapter 3

Andy was still chuckling dirtily as they ambled out onto the street, both clutching Billy’s bags of shopping. “I can’t believe you came out with that old chestnut, Boydy,” he laughed as he flagged down a taxi.  
  
“The old ones are the best,” Billy grinned back. “Or so Sir Ian tells me!”  
  
Andy opened the taxi door and gestured inside. “Care to share?”  
  
“You bet!” Billy exclaimed. “Only my treat, this time!” _Sharing the back seat of a cab with you? Do you really think I’d say ‘no’?!_

* * * * * * * * * * * *

The ride home was pleasant enough, with Billy happy to sit with a big smile on his face and listen to Andy chattering away, throwing in a few wry and witty observations and comments of his own where necessary as he wished the journey might go on for hours yet and to hell with the cost of the fare.  
  
When the taxi pulled up outside Andy’s house, Billy told the driver to wait and then walked Andy to his door.  
  
“You don’t need to do this, you know, Bill,” Andy told him gently, smiling at the bright-eyed Scotsman affectionately as he unlocked and opened the door. “I’m a big boy, now – I don’t think I’m going to be mugged by a gang of field mice before I get through my front door!”  
  
“But I want tae,” Billy smiled back ruefully as he turned to go back to the taxi. “Besides – have ye seen the size o’ the field mice in New Zealand?!”  
  
Andy winked at him. “I think you’ll find they’re called ‘wallabies’, Billy.”  
  
“Is zat what they’re called?” Billy dead-panned. “Christ – I wouldnae like tae see the size o’ the rats here, then!”  
  
“They’d swallow you whole, Bill,” Andy laughed. “Anyway, I’d better let you go – I must phone home an’ then get myself all spruced up for Ian’s bash.”  
  
“So see you tonight, then?” Billy beamed, brain suddenly filled with images of being swallowed whole – but not by rats...  
  
Andy nodded as Billy sprinted back towards the taxi. “See you tonight, McPavarotti!”  
  
“Don’t stand me up, now!” Billy yelled from the idling taxi.  
  
“I won’t,” Andy assured him with another burst of laughter. “You owe me a song, remember!”

* * * * * * * * * * * *

In the bathroom at Ian’s, Billy was having another crisis of confidence.  
  
 _Did I? Did I really shout out to him not to stand me up in the middle of the street?_ He winced as he straightened his bow-tie with trembling fingers. _If I make it too obvious that I’d let him shag me in the middle of Sauchiehall Street if he wanted to, he’s gonna be out that door like Nessie hiding from tourists._  
  
But Billy didn’t want Andy to shy away from him. Billy wanted Andy; wanted him like young girls wanted ponies or Homer Simpson wanted doughnuts. And Billy, nervous as hell and perhaps not thinking too wisely, was hoping he could seduce the man of his dreams with a well-chosen song and a neatly turned phrase and a way with melody. His scatterbrained plan might not work – he knew that. But he’d never know if he didn’t try – and nothing ventured, nothing gained: faint heart ne’er won fair Andy; that much was for sure.  
  
When Billy finally exited the bathroom to be met by approving looks and wolf-whistles, he smiled, hoping he looked more at ease than he felt. “Like the threads, fellas?” he asked cheekily as Lawrence Makaore and Sala Baker, dressed immaculately in sarongs and smart jackets and shirts, eyed him with amusement, almost as though sizing him up as an entrée rather than a fellow party guest.  
  
“You pay good money for that suit, Billy?” Lawrence enquired, dead-pan, while Sala simply laughed. “Some good charity shops in Wellington, eh...”  
  
“I’ll have you know I paid top dollar for this piece of magic in fabric,” Billy retorted in mock indignation. “You are just a pair of eejits uneducated in the ways of fashion. Where are Trinny and Susannah when you need ‘em, eh?”  
  
Lawrence looked blank – and then at Sala. “Trinny and who?”  
  
Sala scratched his head. “They work in the costume department on this movie?”  
  
Overhearing the banter, Cate tutted and shimmered across to them, looking stunning in an emerald-green beaded 30s dress. “You look wonderful Billy,” she smiled, linking her arm through his and leading him away. “Now come over here and flirt with me a while!”  
  
“Aw, Cate! Don’t you wanna flirt with us instead?” Lawrence demanded, mock-distraught.  
  
Cate threw them a playfully seductive smile over her shoulder. “Later, boys; later!”  
  
“Boys, you’ve either got it or you haven’t,” Billy added smugly as he swept happily off with Cate, leaving Sala and Lawrence shaking their heads in amused disbelief.

* * * * * * * * * * * *

Billy flicked another fretful look at his watch and with sweating palms unwrapped the Fun-Sized Mars Bar that Ian had slipped into his breast-pocket with an avuncular smile and reassuring pat.  
  
“Cheer up, Billy,” he’d said. “Let your Aunty Ian offer you a perfectly legal and wholesome form of mood-altering chemicals. No matter what the problem, there’s usually little that a mouthful of something smooth and delicious and full of e-numbers won’t cure.”  
  
But Billy wasn’t sure that even the finest products made by Messrs Cadbury et al would lift his current mood.  
  
He checked the time again. It was nearly 10 o’clock and still no sign of Andy. Perhaps, he thought, there’d been some crisis at home when he’d phoned Lorraine; maybe one of the wee wains was ill, or perhaps Lorraine was – or maybe even his parents. Perhaps he’d broken down on the way – or perhaps he hadn’t been able to get a taxi...  
  
Perhaps, perhaps, perhaps...  
  
Billy mused, wiping his sweating palms on his thighs yet again.  
  
But it wasn’t as easy as he’d expected, trying to think Deep Thoughts when he had a whole kaleidoscope of butterflies wheeling around in his tummy. And so Billy gave up, realising the futility of the exercise and instead sat eating his Mars Bar, idly sucking the chocolate off it whilst attempting to think about something entirely unconnected with his feelings for Andy, and blissfully unaware of exactly what it actually looked like as he slid the bar back and forth in his mouth.  
  
The voice in his ear that broke into his thoughts was...well, not to put too fine a point on it, dark, devilish – and dirty to the extent of being encrusted wholly in filth.  
  
“Anyone I know?” Andy enquired, looking the picture of impish “innocence” when Billy whirled round and attempted to look challenging – only to be let down by his treacherously flushed cheeks and bright eyes. “Fuckin’ ‘ell, Billy, ‘oo d’you fink you are – Marianne Faithful?”  
  
“Very funny,” Billy scowled, wiping chocolate and caramel off his cheek and praying that his pounding heart and pulse would be put down to apprehension rather than lust. “I won’t sing for yeh if ye fuck aboot wi’ me, Andy.”  
  
“I’m only teasing,” Andy replied, squeezing Billy’s shoulder gently. “You nervous?”  
  
Billy sighed. “Aye. A little.”  
  
“Well don’t be; you’re with friends tonight.”  
  
“Oh aye; but I don’t wanna let Ian down.”  
  
“You won’t, I’m sure; you’re too good at what you do.”  
  
Billy blushed. “Och, thanks.”  
  
“I mean it!” Andy grinned. He looked at his watch. “Christ, I cut it a bit fine, didn’t I? You’re on in a bit!”  
  
“Aye, just half an hour to go.” Billy beamed up at Andy. “But you’re here, and that’s what matters. Now! Can I get you a drink?”  
  
“Oh, I’d love one! Jack Daniels on the rocks.”  
  
“My pleasure.” Billy signalled to one of the exquisitely attired waiters and placed his order for drinks for both of them.  
  
“I’m sorry I took so long to get here,” Andy said apologetically, once they were alone again. “Had a bit of a crisis back at home.”  
  
Billy’s heart leapt anxiously. “Oh no! Not Lorraine or the wains!”  
  
“Nah, it’s okay, it was nothing like that. This was all my own doing!”  
  
“Oh what have you done now, Andrew Serkis?!” Billy sighed, aware that he was gazing adoringly up at his friend again and not really caring.  
  
Andy widened his eyes. “Nothing!” he grinned. Then shrugged his shoulders. “Well, nothing much. Oh, cheers!” Andy accepted his drink when it arrived and then continued. “It’s just that I finished speaking to Lorraine and the kids, stripped off for a shower, lay down on the bed for a few moments – and the next thing I knew I was running late. And then it took forever to get a fucking taxi.” He smiled ruefully at his friend. “I’m really sorry, Billy – I hadn’t realised just how shagged out I was.”  
  
“Well, at least you’re here now,” Billy comforted him, images of Andy lying naked on a bed chasing each other round the coils of his brain like fauns chasing half-naked giggling nymphs. “It’s just a shame I have to leave you now ‘cos I’ve got to get ready an’ I’ve got to have a wee word with the pianist. Will you be okay on your own?”  
  
Andy shot him a curious look and crooked grin from over the top of his glass. “I should think so; I know most of the people here and there’s plenty of free food...”  
  
“Of course, of course,” Billy blustered, feeling embarrassed and doltish again. “Look,” he continued, spotting Elijah and Dom who were already at the buffet, piling their plates high and waving at them from across the room. “Why don’t you go and chat to the boys for a while and I’ll see you later?”  
  
“You’re being very solicitous,” Andy grinned.  
  
“Want to make sure my friends are okay,” Billy replied softly.  
  
Andy fell silent for a moment, and then looked Billy in the eye. “This really means a lot to you, doesn’t it,” he observed shrewdly. “This is a very big deal for you, isn’t it?”  
  
Billy lowered his head. “Aye. You’d think performing for your friends would get easier an’ easier. But it doesn’t: it just gets harder. An’ when you want it to be special – because you want to do it right for those you care most aboot...well, that’s when it’s hardest of all.”

* * * * * * * * * * * *

As Billy and the pianist ran through the brief programme of songs Billy had chosen to sing, the young Scot watched Andy chatting with Dom and Elijah and felt pangs of indescribable jealousy. The younger boys were being very tactile with Andy; Elijah was practically crawling all over him, getting vol-au-vant crumbs on the older man’s jacket. Watching Andy’s equally affectionate hugs and touches and hair ruffles had Billy wishing he were standing with them. But even if he were, he doubted if he’d feel like joining in. Billy bitterly regretted the fact that being with Andy rendered him shy and awkward.  
  
When Orlando sauntered across to say hello and slung a possessive arm around Andy’s shoulders, Billy’s heart sank even lower as Andy drew Orlando into a big hug and smiled up at him in the way Billy wanted Andy to smile at him.  
  
He turned with a start as a big hand landed on his shoulder and looked up to see Ian grinning down at him, eyes twinkling with mischief. “Och!” he gasped, smiling with relief. “You gave me a fright there, Ian – creepin’ up on me like that!”  
  
“Or, as our lovely Gollum would say, sneakin’!” Ian laughed, before pulling a mock-rueful face. “Well, you know what they say about old age creeping up on you, Billy. And that’s not the first time I’ve had someone say that to me, laddie,” he added with a wink. “Though I’ve often found that the element of surprise can work in my favour...” He looked down at the sheaf of music in Billy’s hands and then at the pianist. “This all looks most delicious, Billy,” he said approvingly. “Gershwin, Cole Porter, Noël Coward – oh my god, this is going to be wonderful. After hearing Elijah singing ‘Happy Un-Birthday’ to me in that charming screech he calls a voice, it will be sheer bliss to hear you sing something of quality.”  
  
Billy smiled. “Aye, well, I canna go wrong with the likes o’ the greats. Isn’t that right, Kieran?”  
  
The pianist winked up at Billy and Ian. “With Billy’s voice and me tinkling the ivories, we’re gonna knock ‘em dead!”  
  
Ian’s lips curved into a mischievous moué. “Not too dead, I hope; I have plans for a certain beautiful elf later...” He looked through the sheet music again, stopping at one in particular. “Someone To Watch Over Me,” he nodded. “A beautiful song – and an excellent choice...and I see you’re not changing the gender reference?”  
  
Billy coloured and shook his head. “No, I thought – well, sing it as it was written.”  
  
Ian gave Billy a thoughtful look. “You mean this for someone in particular, don’t you...and sadly, I don’t think it’s me.” He smiled at Billy’s lowered eyes. “Now come along, Master Peregrine Took: you know you can’t hide something like that from your Aunty Ian. Besides, I’d heard rumours from the other hobbits – you know how the boys do love to gossip.”  
  
Billy’s face reddened even more and he looked down at his hands as the fingers entwined themselves nervously. “Aye, I canna hide anything from you,” he admitted. “There is someone, it’s true – but he doesnae think of me as anythin’ but a friend.”  
  
Ian frowned. “And you’re going to sing this for him tonight, aren’t you...”  
  
“Aye.” He looked anxiously at Ian. “You think I’m settin’ myself up for a fall an’ that it’s a damn cheek me doin’ this at your party anyway, don’t you...”  
  
Ian ruffled Billy’s hair gently. “Not at all, Billy. And I think you’re being very brave. When it comes to love, sometimes you have to take risks – because if you don’t, how do you know that it’s not reciprocated? You could go through your whole life alone and unhappy when, at the risk of some transitory embarrassment, you could in fact have been loved and happy. And besides; birthday parties are meant to go with a bit of a zing – even un-birthday parties!”  
  
“There are – complications,” Billy added. “He’s married with a family.”  
  
Ian smiled at Billy, eyes now compassionate and concerned. “Then just be careful,” he cautioned. “You must take love where you find it, that’s true – but always remember that if it’s not truly yours to keep, then you must give it back to the rightful owner when the time comes. Oh good lord! I sound like I ought to be presenting ‘Our Tune’!”  
  
Kieran the pianist looked at his watch. “Ready when you guys are,” he said. “The witching hour approacheth.”  
  
Billy and Ian exchanged glances. “I’m ready,” Billy nodded, suddenly aware of the pounding in his temples and the churn of anxiety in his stomach. “But oh Christ, I’m scared! I don’t want to let you down!”  
  
Ian patted his shoulder affectionately and kissed him lightly on the forehead. “Billy, don’t be; I’ll love it, no matter what – and maybe, just maybe, the man you’re thinking about will, too.” Then he winked at Billy, wiggling his fingers as he spread his hands. “It’s show-time!”

* * * * * * * * * * * *

Billy looked around at his audience and smiled. They were loving every minute of it, and so was he.  
  
He’d just finished a rendition of Noël Coward’s “Let’s Do It”, cunningly re-written with the help of Fran and Philippa to include modern references and sly digs at the on- and off-set amorous adventures of members of the LOTR cast and crew which had had everyone in fits of laughter. There’d been particularly loud squealing from Elijah in the Hobbit corner, and it had provided a good excuse for Billy to look across and exchange semi-paternal smiles with Andy as he sat with the younger actors, genial and calm in the midst of the excited hobbit huddle.  
  
Andy’s smiles had made Billy blush. There’d been a pride in them that Billy hadn’t expected – a warm approval and admiration that was easily better even than Ian’s obvious delight in Billy’s singing. He tried to put it down to Andy being pleased that Billy hadn’t succumbed to the nerves he’d been concerned about, but preferred to believe that Andy’s smiles were those of a man basking in the glory of someone he loved and adored.  
  
And now he was going to fuck it all up...  
  
“Thank you, thanks a lot, everyone,” Billy grinned as the applause died down. “Now I’ve almost come to the end of my little stint as Ian’s entertainment for the evening – ” Realising too late his unintended double entendré, Billy paused to allow the loud, raucous roar from Dom in particular to gurgle itself out. “I see you’re making up your own jokes over there,” he remarked impishly, nodding at Dom, Elijah and Orlando. “Unless, of course, we’ve got Julian Clary in tonight?”  
  
“Ooh, not when I last looked,” Dom lisped camply.  
  
Andy’s voice sailed across the room. “He went to the same school as I did – does that count?”  
  
“Not quite, not quite,” Billy smiled as everyone else chuckled. “But it’ll do. Anyway. I’m down to my last three songs of the night. No, no, honestly, all good things must come to an end,” he added after a chorus of protest rippled round the room. “Besides, I’m starvin’ an’ my throat’s as dry as the Gobi Desert. I need to slip a little something soothing down it and Ian, don’t look at me in that tone of voice, please!”  
  
Ian folded his hands across his chest and raised his eyes heavenwards. “As if I’d suggest anything untoward!” he opined with a mock-piety and mischievous twinkle that brought more laughter from the assembly.  
  
“What’s he like, eh?” chuckled Billy, trying to hide his growing nervousness. “Well, after doing so many older songs, I thought I’d like to bring things a little more up to date and sing a more modern classic for you, followed by another golden oldie – just like Ian – which I hope you’ll like. And then, I’m afraid, that’s it! There is no more! Anyway, he continued,” grinning at the chorus of “Ahhhhhh!”’s, “this one’s partly dedicated to Dom, because he’s a huge Beatles fan – but it’s also dedicated to all of you –” Billy looked around the familiar faces, carefully avoiding Andy’s eyes. “ – Because you all mean so very much to me.”  
  
He nodded to Kieran, whose long, slim fingers slid gently across the piano keyboard as he played the introduction, and then Billy began to sing:  
  
“There are places I'll remember all my life, though some have changed.  
Some forever, not for better, some have gone, and some remain.  
All these places have their moments, with lovers and friends I still can recall;  
Some are dead and some are living: in my life I've loved them all.”  
  
He drew in a breath as Kieran continued playing, and then smiled gently at everyone around him, again carefully avoiding Andy’s eyes and face.  
  
“But of all these friends and lovers, there is no one compares with you;  
And these memories lose their meaning when I think of love as something new.  
Though I know I'll never lose affection for people and things that went before,  
I know I'll often stop and think about them; in my life I love you more…”  
  
Billy’s thoughts raced as Kieran played the middle eight, feeling the warmth and affection from his fellow cast and crew. Andy couldn’t possibly know that the words were aimed at him in particular – could he?  
  
“Though I know I'll never lose affection for people and things that went before,  
I know I'll often stop and think about them; in my life I love you more: in my life, I love you more...”  
  
There were loud cheers as Billy finished, and for a moment he felt dazed, concentrating as he had been on his thoughts of Andy and of what he was about to do next.  
  
“Okay, last but one song coming up,” he said, feeling flustered. “Yes, I know I said there were only two, Orli, but I lied, okay? And anyway, I didn’t realise you could count!”  
  
“Fuck off, Billy!” Orlando retorted with a broad, cheeky grin, waving two fingers at him gleefully. “I can count up to two, anyway!” He paused and then shrugged his shoulders. “It’s just numbers after that I have problems with!”  
  
“Don’t you believe it,” Billy laughed, winking at Orlando and waiting for the resulting hubbub to die down. His palms were sweating and his stomach churned – but it was too late to turn back now. Besides, hadn’t he promised Andy a song?  
  
Swallowing hard, he raised his head and looked around the group once more, his voice oddly cracked and low when he finally spoke. “My last but one song is a song I love very much – and I’m dedicating it to someone…that I love very much.” There was a flurry of eager reaction as he spoke, but Billy ignored it, stumbling blindly on before he lost his nerve completely. He fixed his eyes firmly on a spot above Ian’s head and gave a gentle cough. “To the certain someone I had lunch with earlier today and I promised to sing for – the someone I promised a song to... Well, this one’s for you.”  
  
Ignoring the frisson now circling the room and aware that the Hobbits already knew he was in love with an unknown “someone”, Billy briefly closed his eyes, squeezed his hands together, and then nodded to Kieran. “Okay,” he whispered.  
  
The notes of the introduction seemed to be over before Kieran’s fingers had even struck the keys – and then Billy was alone, feeling as though he was offering up his heart on a skewer and praying that Andy’s reaction would not be one of anger or embarrassment. Drawing a deep breath, Billy began to sing:  
  
“There’s a saying old, says that love is blind;  
Still we're often told: ‘seek and ye shall find!’  
So I’m going to seek a certain lad I've had in mind.  
Looking everywhere, haven’t found him yet;  
He’s the big affair I can not forget:  
Only man I ever think of with regret.  
I’d like to add his initial to my monogram;  
Tell me, where is the shepherd for this lost lamb?”  
  
Realising that now he’d reached the point of no return, Billy closed his eyes and poured his heart into his singing:  
  
“There’s a somebody I'm longin’ to see,  
I hope that he turns out to be  
Someone who’ll watch over me.  
I’m a little lamb who’s lost in the wood;  
I know I could always be good  
To one who’ll watch over me.”  
  
Somewhere to his right there was a soft sigh, and an “Oh!” from Elijah, but Billy ignored the distractions. The mood in the room had changed, had become charged with a wistfulness and gentle longing echoing that in his heart as he smiled at the irony of the next lines of the song.  
  
“Although he may not be the man some  
Girls think of as handsome,  
To my heart he carries the key.  
Won’t you tell him please to put on some speed?  
Follow my lead, oh, how I need  
Someone to watch over me.”  
  
Kieran played a brief, smooth instrumental break and Billy was aware of some of his audience humming along gently. From the corner of his eye he spotted movement in the Hobbit corner as someone got up and moved away, but he was too involved in what he was doing for anything to register fully: too lost in pouring out his heart to Andy for anything else to matter. He was aware of his friends and colleagues around him, but it was as though they were watching him from behind a wall of soft, smoked glass.  
  
“Won’t you tell him please to put on some speed?” Billy sang on after Kieran’s playing led him back to the end of the song. “Follow my lead, oh, how I need/Someone to watch over me,/Someone who’ll watch over me.”  
  
As Kieran brought the song to a gentle conclusion, another soft sigh rippled through the room before it erupted into a warm wave of cheering and applause far louder than anything else heard so far that evening.  
  
Billy found himself suddenly snapping back to reality and he opened his eyes very wide and shook his head before staring around at everyone, delighted and buoyed up by their enthusiasm, but also feeling slightly dazed and relieved that the truth was finally out in the open. Suddenly he was aware of just how much noise there was in the room, as though the wall of glass had shattered and left him standing there alone, exposed, and very vulnerable.  
  
He acknowledged the applause of his audience, smiling clumsily in response to Ian’s friendly, knowing wink.  
  
“I hope that song was for me, Billy!” Sala yelled across from the back of the room.  
  
“No, me!” Lawrence retorted, pushing Sala back with an arm like an oak branch and raising his glass to Billy in salute.  
  
“It’s for both of you!” Billy laughed shakily, forcing a smile as the two big men winked and cheered him and congratulated him on his performance. Lawrence and Sala’s cheeky interjections were a well-needed diversion, but there was only one man’s reaction that Billy wanted to see.  
  
Trying to keep his actions as natural and neutral as possible, Billy swung his gaze around to the Hobbit corner, steeling himself for whatever he might find – and found himself freezing in horror anyway when he saw that only Orlando, Sean Astin, Elijah and Dom were sitting there now.  
  
Andy had gone.

* * * * * * * * * * * *


	4. Chapter 4

Billy poured hot water into his mug and stirred the hot chocolate granules listlessly. He felt sick and raw and on the verge of tears and could only face the comforting taste of chocolate rather than a whiskey or beer to gentle his raging mind.   
  
The rest of the evening after he’d seen Andy had left had been a blur. He’d managed to sign off his performance with a flourish, a version of Noël Coward’s I’ve Been to a Marvellous Party, again re-written with Philippa’s help to include members of the film’s cast and crew, and which had been scabrous and scandalous and an absolute riot. But all the same, despite the acclaim he’d received from his friends and compatriots, there was a huge, gaping hole in his chest where his heart used to be.   
  
He hated thinking in such Mills and Boon romance novel terms; but that was how it felt now that he’d laid his heart out for everyone to see and for Andy to take – only to be rebuffed by the man he desired above all others and to have it crushed and thrown back at him unheeded and unwelcome.   
  
Billy sighed as he dropped the spoon into the washing-up bowl and sipped at his hot chocolate. Swearing quietly under his breath when he found it too hot, he tipped some down the sink before cooling it with more milk, idly noting the lights from passing cars as he did so. The little house he shared with Dom was on a slight rise, his drive and small patch of lawn sloping quite steeply down to the road and affording him a view over the passing cars and the house opposite, making him feel tonight like a sorrowful prince from a fairytale locked in his lonely castle tower.   
  
Maybe it wouldn’t be so bad, he thought, now hunting for biscuits to nibble. Maybe the next time he and Andy met they would be polite and friendly with each other and Andy wouldn’t want to swing a punch at him. Andy was no homophobe, Billy knew – but he doubted if a declaration of love, albeit a veiled one, was quite what Andy had been expecting from him.   
  
Billy thought back over the evening, wondering if he’d dropped too many hints and embarrassed Andy in front of the others – then rejected the idea. He’d never named names, never mentioned the name of the man he adored in public; all he’d ever done was say it was someone that he and the other three hobbit actors knew and liked and that he was married with children – and that applied to God knew how many actors, extras and crew.   
  
No, he’d never named Andy directly – and never would, now. He’d behaved with dignity and discretion, and would remain true to that: no-one else knew that he and Andy had had lunch together and that he’d promised Andy a song. Billy wasn't going to embarrass him by telling everyone he knew that Andy had been the object of his affections and sexual fantasies – and wasn’t going to shame himself by admitting that Andy had rejected him.   
  
Even though he knew that the other hobbits would commiserate and care for his wounded pride and heart, and he knew that he wouldn’t be working with Andy directly, Billy wasn’t sure how he was going to cope. Seeing Andy socially was going to be very hard – and there was no way he could avoid socialising with Andy without giving people cause to put two and two together.   
  
Sighing, Billy sipped again at his hot chocolate and put a handful of biscuits into his bathrobe.

* * * * * * * * * * * *

Billy had just switched off the kitchen light, plunging the whole house into darkness, and was heading into the bedroom when he heard a car pull up outside in the road. There were low voices and slamming doors and he assumed it was something to do with the people living in the house opposite. Hearing them made him feel even more lost, alone and unloved and he turned to make his way to bed...   
  
...And then turned back immediately when he heard what sounded suspiciously like Elijah’s unmistakable giggle. His heart sank as conspiratorial voices that sounded like those of Dom, Orli and Elijah conversed, the stillness of the night carrying the sound of their excited whispers to Billy’s ears, if not what they were saying. He hoped to Christ that they weren’t planning to come and commiserate with him, laden with bottles and intent on cheering him up. Dom, the consummate party animal, would usually crash at either Orli’s or Elijah’s, so as not to wake him in the wee small hours by crashing drunkenly through the house. Or so the plan had been for this evening. He loved his friends dearly – but tonight he simply couldn’t face them and he was dreading the inevitable pounding to be let in on his front door.   
  
So it was with no little surprise that he heard car doors slamming again, yells of “Good luck!” and then the sound of a car engine revving before the vehicle roared off down the road again accompanied by whoops and giggles. Billy sighed. He was grateful that the guys hadn’t decided to pay him a visit; instead, he’d probably find a couple of bottles of strong liquor on his doorstep if he went to investigate – and probably one of Elijah’s beloved fake turds which he could now make so well he could get a gig demonstrating their assembly on Blue Peter.   
  
Billy was just debating whether or not to go and see what they’d left him when he heard a rustling noise outside. He assumed it might be some nosy local creature investigating the contents of his rubbish and was about to finally make his way to bed when something rattled against the kitchen window, followed by what sounded like a cough. Intrigued, Billy crept back into the kitchen – but kept well back in the shadows so that there was no chance of being seen from outside.   
  
There was another rattle against the window, and Billy realised it was some of the light gravel from the drive. This was followed by what was definitely a cough – and then a concerted burst of throat clearing before a light baritone voice rang out in the still New Zealand night.   
  
“No one to talk with, all by myself;   
No one to walk with – but I’m happy on the shelf.   
Ain’t misbehavin’, I'm savin’ my love for you.   
  
I know for certain the one I love.   
I’m through with flirtin’, it's just you I’m thinkin’ of.   
Ain’t misbehavin’, I'm savin’ my love for you.”   
  
Billy felt his spine begin to tingle. There was something achingly familiar about that voice – something wholly unmistakable in the faint growl of the timbre and the mischievous delivery.   
  
“Like Jack Horner   
In the corner,   
Don’t go nowhere –   
What do I care?   
Your kisses are worth waitin’ for,   
Believe me.   
  
I don’t stay out late, don’t care to go;   
I’m home about eight, just me and my radio   
Ain’t misbehavin’, I’m savin’ all my love for you!”   
  
And then there was a brief pause before the singer began again, the voice this time more yearning and surprisingly unsure.   
  
“Tonight you’re mine completely,   
You give you love so sweetly;   
Tonight, the light of love is in your eyes:   
But will you love me tomorrow?   
  
Is this a lasting treasure,   
Or just a moment’s pleasure?   
Can I believe the magic of your sighs?   
Will you still love me tomorrow?”   
  
Barely daring to breathe, Billy leaned against the door-jamb, clutching his mug of hot chocolate, and luxuriated in the warmth of the voice now singing to – to him!   
  
“Tonight, with words unspoken,   
You say that I’m the only one;   
But will my heart be broken   
When the night meets the morning sun?   
  
Billy closed his eyes. He knew the song didn’t seem very romantic or complimentary, but he knew it well enough to know it was exactly that – and although he suspected he knew the identity of the singer, he wasn’t convinced that he wanted to know for sure, just in case he was disappointed.   
  
“I’d like to know that your love   
Is love I can be sure of;   
So tell me now, and I won’t ask again:   
Will you still love me tomorrow?   
So tell me now, and I won’t ask again:   
Will you still love me tomorrow?   
Will you still love me tomorrow,   
Will you still love me tomorrow?”   
  
When the song ended, there was a moment’s silence – and then a spattering of applause from nearby houses followed by a cheery “Thank you, thank you – I’ll be here all week!”   
And then there was scrabbling before a dark shape appeared in the window, followed by three loud bangs on the glass.   
  
“You gonna let me in then, Billy?” Andy puffed, trying to keep his balance on the small window-ledge.   
  
Billy raced to the window in a heartbeat. “What the fuck are ye daein’ oot there?” he demanded, opening the window and helping Andy to scramble in through it.   
  
“I told you I would,” Andy retorted indignantly as he clambered over the sink and then dropped onto the kitchen floor, narrowly missing Billy’s bare toes.   
  
“I – what?” Billy gawped at him.   
  
“I said I’d come an’ sing under your window one night, didn’t I? Don’t you remember?”   
  
Billy felt his heart stop as Andy’s muscular arms slid around his waist and pulled him hard against his body. “Aye, I dae. But I never thought you were serious... Andy, what are ye daein’ noo?”   
  
But the words were swallowed by Andy’s mouth as he bent his head and captured Billy’s lips with his own. Andy’s tongue soon found its gentle way into Billy’s mouth and the young Scot gave in, closing his eyes and winding his arms around Andy’s neck as the kiss deepened.   
  
Billy felt as though he was being crushed, pulled in hard and tight by strong arms, and it was a sensation he liked, combined with the feel of the soft curls under his fingers and the firm, warm mouth and tongue bringing all his dreams to life. What he was experiencing might be no more than teasing instituted by the Hobbits, but he’d worry about it later: being kissed and, now, fondled by Andy was something too delicious to spoil with What ifs and What abouts.

* * * * * * * * * * * *

Billy stirred in bed, feeling warm and sore and utterly, blissfully, content. “Do you love me?” he asked, after a thoughtful silence.   
  
Yawning, Andy pulled him in tighter. “Yes, very much,” he admitted. “Not in the way I love Lorraine, I’ll admit; but I do love you. I’m sorry if you’re disappointed, but – ”   
  
Smiling, Billy squeezed Andy’s hand. “No, no, it’s all right. I’m not disappointed. You love me, and you’re here in my bed – and that’s enough for me.” Billy stroked Andy’s curls. “Yes, I know I can’t have you forever; but better this than not at all. And I do love you,” Billy said softly. “I’ve loved you ever since you were so kind to me when I found out that Lij was in love with Dom and not me.”   
  
Andy nuzzled Billy gently. “So I got you on the rebound, then?” he teased. “I think my choice of song was most apt!”   
  
“No – oh no. Oh fuck no. Because I adore Elijah, but I saw in you something I don’t see in Elijah.”   
  
“But he’s such a cutie,” Andy grinned wickedly. “What have I got that he hasn’t?”   
  
Billy turned again in Andy’s arms. “Do you really want tae know?”   
  
Andy paused, frowning at the intense look on Billy’s face. “Tell me,” he whispered. “I want to know.”   
  
And Billy did, words Billy he’d been hoarding for far too long spilling out like jewels as Andy’s eyes shone with wonder and delight. “And I’ll be what you want and need me to be,” he said at length. “But will you be what I want? Like in the song? Be the one I need to watch over me?”   
  
Andy wrapped his arms around him. “You know I will be.” Andy slid his hand down Billy’s chest, long, clever fingers teasing gently at the bumps of his hardened nipples. “Are you okay, Billy?” he asked softly.   
  
Billy turned in Andy’s arms, reaching up to comb his hand through the riot of tumbled black curls. “Perfectly,” he replied, sighing with total satisfaction. He and Andy had been making rough, passionate love for the past two hours or more and he couldn’t remember when he’d last been so thoroughly fucked or so totally happy. “I was so worried when I saw you’d gone,” he continued shyly. “I thought I’d blown it – I thought I’d offended you. Thought I’d gone too far.”   
  
“No, Billy, I was delighted,” Andy reassured him kindly, ruffling Billy’s hair with his free hand. “I left because I was so moved and didn’t particularly want to sob like a big fat baby in public!” He grinned, before stroking Billy’s cheek. “I was honoured, not offended. What else could I be after your beautiful song and the way you serenaded me to declare your love?”   
  
“So you weren’t shocked?”   
  
Andy shook his head, dark curls dancing. “Quite the reverse,” he smiled. He stroked Billy’s hair. “But Billy, I don’t want to hurt you – and you know I can never truly be yours, don’t you?” he added gently.   
  
“Aye,” Billy nodded. “Ah know; but if Ah can have ye for as long as Ah can, I’ll take that and gladly.” He raised his head for Andy’s kiss, and then studied the older man carefully. “Did ye have no idea how I felt about you?”   
  
Andy brushed another kiss across Billy’s forehead. “I suspected something – but it was Lorraine who told me. Lorraine’s a shrewd girl an’ she could see what was goin’ on.”   
  
“And she doesn’t mind?”   
  
“Of course not. She was pleased it was you because she adores you – you know that,” Andy added with a grin. “Lorraine loves me, Billy; loves me very much – perhaps loves me far more than I deserve, I don’t know. And she wants me to be happy. She knew I’d get lonely when she was back home in England and she saw what I needed in you.”   
  
“A wise woman indeed,” Billy mused, his enormous admiration for Andy’s beloved Lorraine now greater than ever. “I was scared you’d want to punch my lights out,” he admitted quietly.   
  
“Never!” Andy snorted. “You’re sweet and kind and you mean a lot to me,” he assured Billy, before swallowing any further arguments with a fiery, full-blooded kiss, eagerly returned, before Andy’s hand continued its tentative way down into Billy’s groin once more, where it cupped Billy’s cock and balls with exquisite tenderness. “I didn’t hurt you, did I?”   
  
“’Course not,” Billy snorted back. “How many times have ye already fucked me tonight? Ah’m looking’ okay, aren’t I? I may only be a wee yin, but I’m no’ fragile. Ah don’t break easy.” He placed his hand over Andy’s larger one between his thighs, linking his fingers with his new lover’s as he smiled up at him, heavy-lidded and replete with sex. “There’s nothin’ I love more than a really good, hard fuck,” he said, tongue darting out across Andy’s full lips. “And Christ you know how to give someone a good, hard, fuck!”   
  
Andy’s chuckle was deep, dark, and caused Billy’s cock to twitch with delight. “And you know how to take one, Billy. Fuckin’ you through the mattress is a real pleasure.”   
  
Billy shivered with pleasure. “So’s lettin’ you,” he purred.   
  
Andy lowered his head and captured Billy’s mouth with his, taking control and sending more shivers of delight down Billy’s spine as he sucked the younger man’s lips and tongue into his own mouth before teasing them with his tongue. “You’re just a little slut at heart, aren’t you,” he purred, kissing Billy’s forehead. “A sweet and delicious little tart.”   
  
“I don’t see you complaining,” Billy returned coyly. “I like bein’ your tart,” he added, teasingly. “Ah love it when you fuck me really hard...” He began to scatter warm kisses across Andy’s face, breath starting to come in quick gasps and lifting his hips to press his cock against Andy’s hand. “Want you to fuck me six ways till Sunday... Want you to fuck me blind...”   
  
“What – again?” Andy grinned as Billy turned under him.   
  
But Billy merely raised himself up on his hands and knees so that he could be taken, and grinned back. He was where he wanted to be – in bed, naked, with Andy, about to be fucked and fucked hard. He knew that one day this would all be over – but for now, he had his very own Great Dark Man after all, and he would be content with that until this period of joyous, erotic protective custody was over...   
  
And then there were no more words as Andy’s mouth claimed Billy’s once more and speech was replaced by soft moans and cries of love.

                                                                                                                                   * * * * * * * * * * * * * *

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> “Someone To Watch Over Me” – music and lyrics by George and Ira Gershwin   
> “In My Life” – music and lyrics by John Lennon and Paul McCartney from the album Rubber Soul   
> “Ain’t Misbehavin’” – lyrics by Andy Razaf, music by Thomas “Fats” Waller and Harry Brooks   
> “Will You Still Love Me Tomorrow?” – music and lyrics by Carole King


End file.
